


Isolation

by network



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Curse of Osiris Spoilers, Exile, Fall of Osiris Spoilers, Gen, Isolation, Mourning, Prophetic Dreams, The Infinite Forest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-10 16:29:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/network/pseuds/network
Summary: Half a century in almost complete isolation would change anyone;An angsty consideration of Osiris' time in exile & in the Forest. Contains spoilers for Fall of Osiris and Curse of Osiris.





	1. there’s no way out (but down)

**Author's Note:**

> Short establishing chapter once again because that's the only way I know how to write. This should follow my typical Thursday update schedule but that might change.

            Osiris grimaces, tugging the thick cloth of his scarf tighter around his lower face and avoiding the piles of still steaming Vex corpses. Despite decades of time spent in the almost immediate proximity of the species, he’s never quite adjusted to the unique smell of the Vex, especially not when high concentrations of heat are mixed in (as it often is, with him). Sagira whirrs alongside him, occasionally complaining as they make their way towards the only home they’ve had for years.

            Osiris’ home is tucked away in one of the less populated realities, a glorified library with a small sleeping space, really. Familiar stone walls are lined with tall bookcases, banners hang from the rafters, and worn wooden floors are barely visible beneath rugs and strewn notes. Within the Forest nowhere is safe, he knows, but this space is the closest he has to protection, despite its flaws. Since his exile this is the only home he and Sagira have had, and, as he busies himself with making tea, he ignores the sinking feeling in his gut.

This peace won’t last.


	2. my heart skips eight beats at once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated 09/05/2019

            It’s far too early (for most people) when Osiris gasps awake, lungs desperately fighting for air as he shakes his head, legs unsteady beneath him when he makes his way across the room. With trembling hands he writes out yet another set of premonitions, describing every detail he can recall in messier script than even his usual handwriting.

_Saint follows me into the Forest._

_He approaches me in an Old Mercury – a field that stretches for miles - simulation – at dusk - and holds out his hand – right hand, palm upturned – and his voice is tired – fatigued, broken, strained. He begs – desperate - me to come back – “please, Osiris, we need you, **I** need you” – and when I refuse – “I can’t Saint. I’m sorry” – his face crumbles - somehow._

_Two seconds, two beats, then a single shot echoes through the air – ringing in my ears – and he falls to his knees. Behind him is me – a few months aged, maybe – face blank and still smoking rifle in his – my – hands._

_Other-Me’s face remains emotionless, and he speaks monotonously; “how many more people will you kill?” I look down at my hands, and my gloves are stained with blood – still dripping, thick droplets – as the simulation collapses – one, two, three - around me._

Osiris finishes writing and throws the pen down, then pacing around his study, fingers knitting together and limbs shaking with remaining emotion. His Dreams are constant, have been a constant in his life for decades now, but they rarely take the form of specific people. Usually they focus around the idea of the Vex threats, of Twilight Gap, of the City falling, of fires and mass graves. Whenever he Dreams of people, it’s always their deaths. The Lords, Andal, and now Saint.

            He tries to rationalise away the Dream, despite knowing that his attempts are pointless. His visions always come true, he knows, but instead he focuses on all the ways it couldn’t happen. Why would Saint come to the Forest? In the Dream he had wanted to “bring” Osiris back (to the City, he presumes, despite knowing that he shouldn’t make jumps without necessary data), but Saint had hardly fought to stop his ‘father’, nor to stop Osiris from leaving before. A change of heart? Unlikely. Saint could make friends with a Thrall if he tried, but the old Warlock Vanguard had tried his best to keep him at bay, and he’d have no reason to try and make nice now. Unless.. no. That train of thought will get him nowhere, he knows, for he’s run it over in his head many times before.

            Saint didn’t care, and that was perfectly okay, he reasons, ignoring the pang of hurt in his chest. He was allowed not to care.

            There’s no reason for Saint to care about his safety now, so Saint won’t come to the Forest. Saint won’t be put into danger, so Saint won’t die because of him. Dream solved, he decides. If Saint does enter the Forest (when, his brain corrects), there’s not much he can do but ignore him. Anything more will encourage him, he knows. He just hopes that it won’t come to that.

            He busies himself with getting ready for his “day” (no such things truly exist in the Forest), pushing his Dream to some obscure corner of his mind to focus on his research instead.


End file.
